Rebirth: Splendid Marriage in the 80s - Chapter 18 - Where Does the Magic Brush Come From

By a twist of fate, Tang Su discovered that the aloof male god she once had a crush on lived right across the hall.It had been eight years, and he did not remember her at all, so Tang Su had to tuck away her affections and pretend she didn't know him.Every time they met, she would properly call him “Doctor Lu.”……One day, while Lu Han was taking a nap, Tang Su slipped into his office.The duty nurse shot up in surprise, shouting “Stop” as she followed after Tang Su.By the time the nurse arrived, Tang Su was sitting in the chair, stretching out her leg to hook Lu Han's, coquettishly asking, “Doctor Lu, my leg hurts, could you take a look?”Lu Han stepped back and turned to the nurse, “You go out first, I'll handle this.”The nurse nodded, considerately closing the door behind her while muttering to herself that she didn't know how many women had thrown themselves at Doctor Lu. Each one of them had left crying.After a while, the office door opened.The nurse looked up to see that Tang Su as expected, was limping out with reddened eyes.The nurse smiled knowingly, thinking that Tang Su had overestimated herself.Soon after, Lu Han hurried out of his office.He swept past the nurse, scooped Tang Su up at the waist, and carried her sideways back to the office.As he walked, he whispered to Tang Su, “Didn't I tell you to wait for me a while? Why are you walking around with a sore leg?”……After they got married, Doctor Lu was often away for meetings, surgeries, and paid learning, hardly ever at home, not even answering phone calls, leaving Tang Su practically like a deserted bride.She wrote in her TikTok bio: “Living like a widow.”Then—One stormy night, Doctor Lu came back.Before long, she changed her TikTok bio to: “Please spare me.”

What?!A perfect free-use novel doesn't exist?!.........So what? Just read this one.~~Hehe~~You're gonna love this, seriously.This is what cooking of three months is like.No degenerate out there can ever come close to my degeneration which helped me create this fantasy book.Milf?I have it.Young?I have it.Boob sizes?Is that even a question to ask.Ass size?Hmmm~~~ My favorite.Whatever you wish for, I got it.So come and follow the degenerate life of JakeMalcolm, the lucky son of a gun who was finally transmigrated to the world of his desire, using everything in his sight, his family the beginning and the end would be...Well, no idea who the end would be.So stay tuned to find out.~~First and foremost, this is a work of fiction. Any mention of a real person or religion is purely coincidental and all the work of my sick imagination.Read it, then decide if you want to stick to it. This is more likely a work of a whim so there might be holes that I might have to fill.Haha. Holes to fill.Anyway, this is more like an idea that progresses as the story does so if you have any fantasies that you'd like to implement, I'm open to them.Just don't overdo so the story doesn't spin too out of control.~~The cover's not mine and if the owner wants me to take it down, I'll do so without trouble.Bonus chapters of any sort would be decided upon once the novel goes premium, but before that, there is no schedule update. Just know that there'll be an update every day. Just not of how many chapters.Last but not least, read with an open mind and make sure you don't have any opinion to give until you're well into the story, whether good or bad.That's it. Enjoy~~

Wu Tao, a small mysterious trader, suddenly appears in the city of Jinan and encounters with Yuanbao, a foxy little beggar. Wu Taos identity as a trader is suspected soon, because on the day before he appears, Sun Jicheng, a millionare in Jinan dies a mysterious death, and people finds the dead one is his substitute. Around the countless wealth, confusing identity and the seven mysterious stars in the little beggar, various figures come on stage, starting a magical adventure story.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.